Novel & Cerita Fireblood Book

“Now rise, Fireborn. The next time he touches you, the flame will answer. And it will be his undoing.” I rose, slowly, steadily, the violet-blue flame dancing on my fingertips, the power thrumming through me, an unstoppable force. The scar on my aunt’s throat pulsed in resonance with my own awakened magic. The fear was still there, a faint echo, but it was overshadowed by a burning, resolute fury. The witchblood had awakened. And it craved vengeance.

“They’re following us?” “No.” Kael’s voice dropped. “They’re already ahead.” A howl fractured the silence, drawn out and low—not one of summoning or warning, but mourning. Lyra’s heart pounded. “That’s from Firefang.” Kael nodded grimly. “And it’s not just a loss. It’s a betrayal.” They picked up their pace, sprinting the final slope that opened into a shallow ridge. Below, the Firefang pack’s camp sat nestled between jagged cliffs—once a stronghold of warriors, now a ruin of shattered stone and bloodstained earth.

“Why does it say I could burn the world down?” Angela hesitated, her lips parting—then sealing again. She turned away, pulling a dusty book from a nearby shelf and opening it with care. “Because the First Flame was a bloodline erased from history. Hunted. Feared. Hidden in plain sight… until you.” She flipped to a page where an ancient crest flickered in faded gold, a burning wolf standing atop a crescent moon.

I responded firmly. “And I'm telling you she knows nothing if she thinks you started the fire. You and I both know that's not how it happened—” “You're not getting the point, Carly. If China tells her version of what happened to Principal Hai, I could get killed!” I said, cutting her off. “Don't be silly, Ella. Everyone knows a tribrid can only be killed by an oak wood plunged into their heart.” Carly responded confidently but I shook my head.

I fixated on Damiano's beautiful, golden-brown eyes that I have grown to care so much for. In an instant, Damiano’s gaze transformed, turning icy and resolute. His attention quickly shifted to behind me, and a sharp, involuntary jolt coursed through me as the crackle of gunfire erupted just inches from my left side. The pained moans echoed through the air, followed by the dull thud of bodies hitting the ground. I swallowed hard as the grim reality of the situation hit me. With my body already tense, I could feel my muscles tighten even more when I saw two more muzzle flashes not that far from us. I was holding onto Damiano’s shirt so tightly when I heard someone moving towards us.

"The Hova prince released the handmaiden from her collar, unleashing her full, dormant power. On the fields of Staran, all the Hova saw was a blinding white light that rained upon them with the wrath of a wronged people, charring them where they stood. It was her. The Lightning princess, also known as Fireheart." Prince Marcellus looked up from the book, fixing his gaze on Scarlett. "And... What about this? It's a story, isn't it?" Scarlett said, still failing to understand why this was so important to Prince Marcellus. "This is exactly what happened in the courtyard the other day, albeit on a smaller scale."

I had to accept that I’m meant to do great things, be the outstanding leader they all were waiting for, the bigger picture Finn was talking about that day. Suddenly there were flames dancing in front of my eyes, beautiful red, yellow and orange colors intertwining with each other. The flames grew, they got bigger, and they engulfed my entire body. I felt them caressing me, giving me their warmth without burning me, as they burned brighter and brighter until it forced me to close my eyes. There he was, majestic in all his glory, surrounded by the most gorgeous fire I have ever seen, the phoenix from the painting. He got closer. He was mere inches away from me.

And there would be no coming back for her after that. She wasn’t built for monsters like me. So she have to walk away. Sooner or later, she would. She have to. Because if she didn’t… I would drag her into my darkness myself. And the fire between us would burn her alive.

But by then, I had already let go of everything. My form had gone completely transparent, ready for the next chapter. Ahead of me lay a path bright and open. My passion would never fade, my devotion would outlive even after my final breath.

His presence flickered through the fire, a thread of warmth and calm. “You’re not alone in there,” he said. “I’m with you.” I gasped, clutching at the sound, focusing on it like it was my only lifeline. The fire roared again, but this time I didn’t fight it. I listened. Underneath the fury, beneath the grief, there was something else — a heartbeat. A single pulse that matched my own. The Fireborne’s memory wasn’t just pain. It was protection. Every burn, every blaze, every death — it was all for survival. For love.